


Til I See Me Again

by tisfan



Series: Good Omens Bingo [5]
Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: Bodyswap, House Cleaning, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-31
Updated: 2019-08-31
Packaged: 2020-10-04 02:47:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 470
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20463761
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tisfan/pseuds/tisfan
Summary: B5 - Body Swap for ineffable husbands bingoAziraphale's flat is a disaster...





	Til I See Me Again

Of course it was going to happen. After the Apoca-could-ya-not, how could it not happen? 

The Apocalypse hadn’t occurred. Millions of demons had been riled up and then told to stand down. Guardian angels and cherubim and seraphim had been pulled from their various duties and drafted to fight. 

Perhaps not all the hosts of Heaven and Hordes of Hell had _wanted _to fight, but Crowley had to admit that he and Aziraphale were a depressingly small minority. In fact, Crowley hadn’t gotten any support whatsoever from any of his demonic acquaintances. Aziraphale had gone even worse, when he hadn’t been, in fact, directly assaulted, he’d been belittled, mocked, and ignored.

Which meant that they had to be prepared. If could happen any time.

They swapped their bodies before they even left Tadfield, blurring for just a moment behind a copse of trees, and then heading out to go to the bus stop.

Which meant that Crowley was, in fact, now disguised as Aziraphale, looking around Aziraphale’s little flat above his shop.

Which was a _mess_.

He reached over and picked up Aziraphale’s phone and called his own cellular. He loved cell phones. Aziraphale hated them. So he was already grinning widely when Aziraphale said, in his most testy tone using Crowley’s voice, “What?”

“Crowley!” Crowley said, “you old devil, how are you?”

“Well, if you must know,” Aziraphale said, still pretending to be Crowley, although he wasn’t necessarily doing a very good job of it, but that was all right. As far as Crowley could tell, his own lot wouldn’t know an angel in disguise if it bit them. Not that, mind you, Aziraphale was likely to bite anyone. 

“Perhaps you could help me with a tiny little problem,” Crowley said, pretending to be Aziraphale. “I could put in a good word upstairs, if you might be so kind--”

“I am unforgivable, Angel,” Aziraphale said, throwing himself into the role. “There’s nothing you, or anybody, could say that would get me back into Heaven.”

Well, as a matter of fact, Crowley thought he’d be seeing Heaven again for the first time in thousands of years, rather soon. But no need to mention that.

“Do you, in fact, have any bloody idea where I might have left my pocket watch? I’m afraid I can’t find it in this clutter.”

“Clutter!” Aziraphale huffed. “It’s not clutter, it’s just… lived in. Unlike my own, spartan, perfectly sterile living environment.”

Crowley picked up an old teapot. “Does this spark joy?”

“Don’t you dare throw anything away, or so help me--”

“Get thee behind me, foul fiend,” Crowley said. “Tell you what, why don’t we go have a bit of lunch, crepes, perhaps? And I won’t have to look at this disaster any longer.”

“Very well, but only because you asked so nicely.”

“Please.”


End file.
